Not At Home
by Skalidra
Summary: When Bruce returns from the dead, an amnesiac, Damian finds himself without a place to live. It's not an ideal situation, but Jason and Roy happen to have a safehouse in Gotham, and they're willing to let him stay for a while, if he wants to.


Day 3 of JayRoy week! The prompt for today was 'Problems Raising a Child.' Enjoy!

 **Warnings** for: Reference to sex.

* * *

"I do not need your help, Todd," Damian nearly spits, arms crossed and showing a remarkable amount of derisive arrogance for a ten year old.

Jason stares right back with the same crossed arms; double the mass but otherwise pretty similar. "I didn't say you needed it, I said I'm offering. Since the manor's pretty off-limits, and I'm assuming you don't want to go back to the League for a place to sleep, I'm just saying you can consider the door open. If you want a place to crash in Gotham, we've got a spare bedroom and a decent bed in it."

Damian peers up at Jason, and then glances sharply back towards where he's been mostly staying out of the conversation, leaning against his workbench. "Your pet archer has no problem with this?"

He raises an eyebrow at the roundabout way of including him in the whole thing, while simultaneously very much _not_ including him.

"Damian," Jason growls, voice low with warning. " _Roy_ agreed with me when we talked about it. _Before_ I offered."

"I've got no problem giving displaced kids a home," is his contribution, paired with a crooked smile.

Immediately Damian is bristling, spitting, "I _have_ a home," at him, eyes defensive and _angry_. Touchy subject, apparently. Not surprising.

Jason shifts forward, clearly ready to meet Damian's aggression with his own, and he quickly says, "You're right, I'm sorry. What I should have said was that I've got no problem giving kids who can't go home, for whatever reason, a place to sleep." He smiles, trying to convey that he's not interested in going after Damian's sense of belonging. "It's a tough place to be in; I know."

Damian shuffles a bit, anger fading a little as he looks back up at Jason, and then says, quieter, "I'm not a kid."

"Only by the legal definition," Jason agrees, with a snort. "So, what do you think?"

"That you are an imbecile and your partner is no better." Damian shifts a little more, glances at him again, and then says, "That would be… appreciated." Even quieter, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, brat." Jason swipes a hand out and gets one quick ruffle of Damian's hair before the kid swats his hand away with a hiss. "You staying tonight?"

He tries not to smile as Damian takes a subtle step backwards, out of range of Jason's arms, but fails pretty miserably.

"I suppose," is the reluctant answer. "I have things to retrieve from the manor." A pause, and a little sheen of defensiveness to those expressive blue eyes. "I assume I may bring some things here?"

"Of course," he jumps in with, keeping his smile as Damian's defensive gaze turns to him. "Make yourself at home, Damian. Bring whatever you want."

Damian's head tilts a little, almost like another silent thank you, before he takes a more obvious step back. "Then I will be back. I would hope you do not burn the building down before I do so."

Jason's mouth curls in a sharp smirk. "We'll get the room ready for you. No fires; promise."

There's another lingering look, almost like suspicion, before Damian gives a sharp click of his tongue against his teeth and whirls around, stalking out of their home with the kind of aggressive arrogance that apparently comes naturally to tiny, deadly assassins. The door shuts — it _almost_ counts as a slam, really — and Jason shakes his head, snorting and then letting his arms drop down, shoulders lowering out of the pseudo-tension they've been in since somehow coaxing the kid into their ware-home.

He pushes off the workbench, moving up behind Jason and circling arms around his waist, tugging his partner back against him. Jason sighs, leaning back against him as hands find his wrists and lightly grip them, with not even a hint that Jason might want him to let go. He nuzzles the side of Jason's neck to test, and gets more weight leaned into him; enough that he has to shift a leg back and brace against it. Jason is both bigger than him and _all muscle_ , and that's a lot of weight to be trying to support without much warning.

"So, that go about as well as you expected?" he asks, pressing a kiss to Jason's jaw.

"Better," Jason admits, with a much softer snort. "Kid's a total pain in the ass on the best of days, but… he's still family. Sucks to be cut off from Bruce, and it must be worse for him. Not like the old man's dead, just… not all there anymore." Jason shoves out a breath and straightens up a little bit. "Bruce deserves it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck for the kid."

"Family problems always suck," is his sage agreement, and Jason squeezes his arms, turning his head to catch him in the brush of a kiss. He lingers, breathing against Jason's mouth in the moment of shared memories, and shared pain.

Then Jason gently pulls away from him, taking one of his hands and interlacing their fingers. "Come on, we've got a room to make livable."

He lets Jason pull him forward, towards the sectioned off corner of the warehouse that used to be, probably, a manager's office. "It's not _that_ bad."

"You've been storing half-finished projects in it," Jason says, with an arched eyebrow. "God knows what kind of weaponry and unstable systems are in that room. It could be literally explosive, for all I know. And for all _you_ know too, don't even try to pretend you actually remember exactly what's in there."

He opens his mouth to counter. Closes it again. "Point," he admits after another moment. "It's _probably_ not going to be anything bigger than like, a mild explosive. If that. I'll know what's in there once I'm looking at it."

" _That_ I believe." Jason pulls him to a stop at the door to the room, swinging him around until he comes up against Jason's chest and the curve of his mouth. "My beautiful genius," is whispered, just before Jason kisses him.

He feels his mouth curl into a smile all its own, and leans into the kiss, giving a little hum of pleasure when strong fingers slide through his air. "I thought I was your pet archer," he counters, snickering a little bit as Jason snorts out a laugh. "You know, if we're going to have Damian here for the foreseeable future…" He lets his words hang suggestively.

Jason gives a little grin, fingers flexing in his hair. "You got something in mind?"

He gives a teasing shrug, and runs his free hand across Jason's waist. "Well, might be your last opportunity to get loud for awhile. I know how you like to sing for me, Jaybird."

A hard swallow, and Jason's voice is lower when he says, "You've got a hell of a point there."

"Well, I _am_ a genius."


End file.
